The Nature of Beautiful
by Miss Maggie
Summary: You are beautiful. Tina's thoughts on beauty, courtesy of Artie, inspired by Carole King's song, "Beautiful". Artie/Tina, Artie-POV.


**_Nature of Beautiful_**

******Author's Note: **Euphro gets credit for the idea and the song choice this time. :) It's pretty straightforward, also my first time trying to write Artie-POV, and a songfic at that... so um... yes. I _tried_. Special shout out to my update twin, Hecate's Rath!

The song used is Carole King's "Beautiful". It's a great song, give it a listen!

* * *

The first time I call Tina beautiful, we're sitting in my room. I'm playing my guitar absent-mindedly, and she's sprawled out on the floor, drawing designs on her jeans with permanent marker. She's coloring in music notes on her jeans with a single-minded focus that is admittedly, very charming. When she moves so she can start drawing on the other leg, I realize I'm staring. To distract myself, I start studying my guitar intently, suddenly very interested in choosing just the right song to play next.

"Hey, can you play something for me?" Tina's voice snaps me out of my haze, and I smile at her. "I like it when you sing. It makes me feel really safe." She makes a face when she realizes what she's just said. "Is that too weird?"

My face feels hot all of a sudden, and I'm floored by the frankness of her comment. "Of course that's not weird, Tee. Not weird at all."

Knowing that she'll never give me a straight answer when I ask her to choose a song I can play, I mentally go through my musical library in my head, trying to find something suitable. Eventually, I manage to think of a song Tina and I both like that she probably won't tease me for choosing. With a soft smile directed her way, I start playing, then singing for her. "_You´ve got to get up every morning with a smile on your face…_"

Tina stops drawing on her jeans as she focuses her attention toward the song that I'm performing. She's never heard me sing it before, but for some reason, I feel like I _must_ sing this song to her right now. I smile at her as the song nears its conclusion, but my playing remains focused. I'm determined to get through this.

_You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face_  
_And show the world all the love in your heart_  
_Then people gonna treat you better_  
_You´re gonna find, yes you will_  
_That you´re beautiful as you feel._

The song ends more quickly than I intend for it to, and the final note from my guitar lingers throughout the room for a few seconds, keeping the silence at bay. Once the room is completely quiet, I spare a glance at Tina, still sitting on the floor.

Her expression is awestruck, and she's still humming the last few bars of the song under her breath, caught up in the melody. I don't really want her to notice that I'm staring, but I'm not sure I really like the lost, half-teary expression on her face, either.

"Hey, Tee?" I say, trying to get her attention. She's still humming, completely oblivious. "Tee?" No reply. "Tina!"

She blinks before turning her head to look up at me. "Artie?"

Her voice is breathy and thick, like she wants to cry. I have no idea what to do about this, so I awkwardly set my guitar aside and move myself from the chair down to the floor, so I can be on an even level with her. "Tee, what's wrong? Are you okay? Talk to me."

"The song, why'd you pick it?"

I shrug, not sure why she's so upset yet. "I thought you'd like it. I know you like Carole King. It made me think of you."

"Really?" Tina is looking at me now, her eyes kind of hopeful and misty.

"Yeah, of course. Did you not like it, Tee?"

"No, no, not that." Tina is quick to defend my song selection. "It's just that, well... No one's ever called me beautiful before."

I try not to gape. "Never, Tee?"

"Never." She looks deadly serious now. "It's always, cute. Cute little Tina. Cute. Cute. Cute. But never beautiful, not even through a song." She reaches up with her gloves to wipe awkwardly at her eyes, her gaze drifting down so she can stare at her skirt, unable to hold her gaze with mine any longer.

I blink for a second, dumbfounded by her revelation--and her reaction. Does she think I'm going to just let the matter drop? Swallowing hard, I scoot myself over to her, wrapping my arms around her in an awkward hug. She gasps at my touch, clearly not expecting me to reach out to her (this makes me wince, I know things have been on edge since our fight and subsequent make up, but... really?) but it doesn't take her too long before she's leaping into my lap, clutching me tightly like some kind of lifeline.

I rub one hand along the small of her back in slow circles, trying to get her to calm down. She's not crying, her grip is starting to make it difficult for me to breathe. "Tee. Tina," I pause, trying to figure out just what to say. My free hand reaches up to fist itself in her hair, stroking it gently. "Tina, listen to me. _I_ think you are beautiful."

"Honest?" She lifts her head from my chest just slightly, so her eyes can peer up at me nervously. "Really, really?"

"Tina." I feel faintest traces of a blush crawling up my neck, but damn the embarrassment. The disbelieving look in her eyes is starting to freak me out, and suddenly, it becomes the most important thing in the world to get her to believe me. "I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever met, inside and out."

I let a sigh of relief escape when she doesn't bury herself back into my chest this time. Her eyes grow a little less wary, and I feel my heart lighten in my chest. The butterflies in my stomach are going full-force, but I know it's more important for me to press on. She has to believe me. "Tina. You're kind, considerate. Caring." I rub her back soothingly. "And absolutely gorgeous. Breathtaking. All of these things make you so beautiful, Tina. You've got to believe it, believe me, Tee."

"No one ever said I was unattractive," she begins, her tone quiet and her voice shaky. "But, it was always cute. I looked so cute. That dress made me look cute. I had a cute face. I'm the cutest thing ever, even to my parents. Not tall and slim and curvy and blonde, like a model or something. Not that I really _cared_ about that, but, it was like. I wanted to be beautiful too. I wanted to not _let_ being cute bother me."

"I think you did care, Tee." I stroke her hair and her back in tandem. "But that's not important. You've got the most beautiful soul I've ever seen. That's more important."

"I know it wasn't worth it to try and be blonde or a size two and a supermodel," she says angrily. I keep rubbing her back, trying to stay calm, knowing she's not lashing out at me personally. This is something she's needed to say for a while, and I need to be here, giving her comfort. "So I decided to wear black. And combat boots and gloves and chains and rips and safety pins. Nobody could call me cute if I looked badass."

"So you're fierce," I say dryly. "But you're beautiful too. The most important kind of beautiful."

"I can be?" Her eyes narrow. "More than one thing. At once?"

"Absolutely." I give her hair one last pat before letting both my hands hold her in a loose embrace. "Trust me, Tina."

It seems to finally sink in, because suddenly, she's staring up at me, giving me a real smile for the first time since I made that godforsaken song selection. "You know, when you call me beautiful, I think I might believe it."

This has me leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I want you to believe it, Tina. You are so beautiful."

"Artie." Her eyes are all watery again, and I'm getting nervous. I think they're what she calls happy tears, but to me that's the biggest oxymoron ever.

I reach out to wipe at her eyes. "Don't cry, Tee."

"But," she trails off, not sure what to say. "I think I ...could like it when you call me beautiful."

"It's a start." I give her arms a gentle squeeze, before letting my hands rest on the small of her back again. "I suppose I'll have to practice until you like it all the time."

Her eyes suddenly get shy, then focused, and before I can figure out just what's going on this time, she's leaning in to give me a kiss. It's brief, and light, but the unspoken thank-you behind it has me itching to tell her gestures like that are what _make_ her so beautiful.

"For what it's worth," she says, her tone hesitant and quiet, "I think you're beautiful, too." Tina blushes, then squeaks when she realizes what she's said. Her head drops down, like she's going to hide behind her hair, but she stops mid-movement, and pushes her hair from her face. "Or handsome, if you'd prefer."

"It's worth a lot," I say, my hands reaching out to cup her face and bring her gaze up to mine again. "And in this case, I think I'll make an exception for beautiful."

Then I lean in to kiss her again, and really, _beautiful_is the only way to describe it.


End file.
